


On Love: A Tale

by koi_ling



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Explicit Sexual Content, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Missing Scene, i can't believe i managed to use my philosophy classes for this, i love this otp so much, kind of, love and love and love, several time jumps, supportive boyfriends, there are tags about my feels aMAZING, this span from ep 1 to 10 more or less AHH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 09:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koi_ling/pseuds/koi_ling
Summary: when I was there, in the rink, you were always by my side, VictorKatsuki Yuri and the story of his costant love for Victor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry this is very messy! It jumps back and forth between episodes quite a lot (there are hints that make the reader understand around what episode each part is set but I know it’s still difficult)... yet my mind couldn't help but picturing the story this way? This otp really gives me so many feels and i'm just *A* writing about them.  
> I wouldn't have been able to write it if not for this song: [you, kang seungyoon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G293hRiR1EE)  
> I hope you enjoy!

i

If Yuri has to pick one moment – a _when_ of some sort that could define the limits of their beginning, of his beginning of a life with Victor by his side – then he would probably confine himself in another of his many silences. This time, not only for an understandable embarrassment, but also for a lack of a precise answer that can be defined satisfactory.

There is no when if there is no exact moment to recall, and for Yuri his life before Victor is just a blur of few fleeting emotions. His mother’s warm hands cupping his cheeks, his father’s laughter filling his ears, the sweet rich taste of their _katsudon_ , the general awkwardness he feels around people that aren’t his own, no matter if they’re older or just his age, the way he can be at ease when he’s training alone, his body burning in a pleasurable ache.

Did he even live, before seeing him? Was he even human, before knowing such passion? He was already used to ballet and skating, and the long hours of solitary exercise, effort after effort to reach an unnatural perfection, but was that out of desire or simple need of having something of his own, something that could help him survive the jungle of a person’s life?

Yuri knows the answer: the first time he laid his eyes on Victor, he started to live. To feel in a way that he never thought was possible. The words of his rink friends sounded distant in his ears – _that’s Victor Nikiforov, he’s only sixteen!_ – because everything, whether minimal or important, zeroed in nothingness when he performed. Even with a TV screen between them, Yuri felt connected to each one of his moves, struck by their elegant beauty, apparently fragile yet cutting through his heart like nothing else had ever done.

Was he even himself before witnessing what Victor was able of? Everything shifted, maybe of just few degrees, yet in such a complete way that was impossible to set everything back to how it was; he was still Yuri but not as much as before. Everything was a little more vibrant, the colours saturated and the sounds enriched, even food was tastier than he could remember. And his own small self was burning of such a sentiment with an intensity he didn’t know before.

He remembers the moment Victor won and he was left in stunned silence – it’s a moment he has seen over and over again in the next years, played in many interviews Victor took, but the first time was one of a kind – he remembers the bundle of emotions wedged in his throat, words trapped just underneath, his hands reaching to stop the sudden wail coming out of his mouth. Could he, one day, be able to look at that person in the eye? As an equal? Would he be able to reach such perfection, and beauty, even a small share of it, even a nugget that could count for something? Could he, Katsuki Yuri, be somehow a little closer to that person?

 

 

“You had a poodle too, once”, Victor says one of those several nights after training, when Yuri is just too tired to move his aching body and yet everything is less painful for the simple fact that Victor is there, eating one of their famous _katsudon_ with gusto.

“Still trying to know me better?”, Yuri says with no bite. “There is not much to me”.

“I doubt”, he scoffs, slurping down another slice of pork. “Vicchan… was it named after me?”

It is charming, the smile hanging at the corner of his lips, like he knows much more than Yuri says, seeing through his white lies and the things he doesn’t say, and somehow Yuri is still amazed that it is directed to him and no one else. Victor Nikiforov is flirting with him, or simply being his usual very foreign self, prying around like no Japanese man would do. Yuri continues to not be used to it, finding himself wheezing at that amount of intimacy in his voice.

“I-I doubt”, he tries to sound as nonchalant as him.

Victor smiles like he knows that’s just another lie. Although he might seem clueless to a stranger’s eye, he can be sharp when he wants, his blue stare turning into cutting ice – but it always lasts just for the shortest of moments, that glimpse to a depth Yuri can’t still reach.

Yuri decides to make a move, shifting forward to grab the bottle of _sake_ Victor has been drinking during his meal, and fills his own cup to the rim. The liquor tastes sweet and pleasant on his tongue, a liquid bravado he needs for tonight.

“Are you…”, the question lingers in the air, Victor stops smiling as he looks at him with trepidation.

It requires all the courage he has, but Yuri has already decided to be honest with Victor, having opened himself to him like he hasn’t done with anyone else, and in such a mutual bond of trust he must be the first one to take another step toward sincerity – for the sake of what they have, what they _could_ have.

“Yu-chan and I... we played a game, we played being you. We kept copying your moves and your programmes, cheering ourselves with the momentary happiness of being you for few moments. We set our goal right there and each time we managed to do what you did, a sense of satisfaction would spread through our hearts”.

Victor’s expression softens in placid contentment, his chin propped on his right hand. He is listening to him, to him only, and Yuri has to calm himself down before speaking again. No one has known those sides he shows to him, and Yuri is always nervous of screwing it up for good.

“When I practiced alone... so many times I ran to our rink and just lost myself in training, hours and hours of good destructive practice, you must know more than anyone else… when I was there, in the rink, you were always by my side, Victor”, he looks at the white bottom of his cup, a forgotten drop of sake staring back at him. “I was blind to all the people cheering up for me all this time, but not to you. You were there, you’ve always been there. The product of my imagination – of my inability of noticing what I had before my eyes – you were there, skating at my side. Somehow, I could always see your moves better than my own”.

Yuri’s eyes dart at Victor’s hand gripping his one, scorching hot against his cold skin, and for a moment he wonders if it’ll burrow through him, melting every layer of muscle and bone to reach his core – is it even allowed, to be able to touch him like this? To be this clo– but this time Victor is real against him, not fire but lukewarm comfort.

“Now I’m here. For real, I’m here. As your coach. I’m not going to leave unless you want me to”, he says and Yuri feels his heart digging a hole inside his chest, impossibly trying to hide itself from such emotion. It is everywhere, in every breath Yuri takes, choking him in such a sense of fulfilment that he can’t even answer to Victor.

He doesn’t exactly know what Victor may be implying, if it’s the alcohol making him hear things that aren’t there in those few words he say, but Yuri knows he can trust him anyway. He intertwines his fingers with Victor’s and stares back at him, doesn’t budge, doesn’t look away like he does most of the times.

He can’t believe how incredibly close they are. It feels – scarily perfect.

 

 

ii

“Do you know about Plato? Ancient Greek culture is always amusing and full of surprises...”, Victor seems talking to no one in particular, that night. Yurio is sitting across from him and a sound of scorn comes out from his mouth, as if he knows everything that matters about that subject or he couldn’t care enough.

“He wrote about everything that matters, and love as well. Agape, Eros, those you will perform in a week… they are just few of the many types of loves that Greek people believed into, but Plato’s story is more romantic somehow – it’s about soulmates”.

Yuri listens and wonders – what is the name he would give to the feeling he has for Victor, once sheer admiration that pulled him through every crisis and brought him to improvement, now a tangle of uncertainty that squeezes at his heart without any mercy? It is like a roller coaster, a whole constellation of different states that he can’t grasp entirely.

Sometimes it’s like Agape, sincere and pristine and powerful of an inner innocence that belongs to Yuri. Sometimes…

 

 

“This is Eros”, Victor says against his lips, and he’s excruciatingly hot when he does so. Yuri is overwhelmed like only he can do, in his totality, but he’s surprised by how much Victor trembles against his side, despite being the expert one between them. They have shared few kisses before – simple pecks that would make Yuri queasy and yearning for more – but never had they kissed like this, with a certain dose of urge and desire that leaves them both breathless.

Yuri’s true first kiss is sloppy and impatient like only he could be. Victor’s hands shake around his hips, failing to grasp at them, and Yuri grabs and guides them to his body, to let Victor hold him. Victor squeezes his sides, eliciting pleasurable stings of pain that set Yuri on fire.

It feels a bit like dying and being born again under his kiss, and Yuri wonders how they ended up like this in the first place, how his failed attempt to flirt with Victor actually resulted in a success. He had just come home after revealing his topic for the Grand Prix, but he had no idea that confessing his love would have such an immediate effect on Victor.

Victor’s hands cup his cheeks and he presses on to deepen the kiss, relentless and honestly eager like never before. Yuri yields at such passion, burns with it, his own fingers grabbing at his hair as he moans against his lips.

If today Yuri talked about the love he got from everyone and how Victor made him realize he was surrounded by it, Victor’s kisses speak of his want to claim that sentiment just for himself. Yuri chuckles onto his mouth – because he’s always been the owner of his heart, anyway.

Some weeks later, Victor kisses him in the rink, in front of everyone. It is the crowning of a series of choices Victor made – to be with him, to coach him, to be by his side instead of being at the centre of the world – and Yuri is too startled to even react like he would usually do. He couldn’t even care, as he tucks him in his embrace, Victor’s weight splayed on his body. Yuri feels like there is nothing dividing them, as they’re a big bundle of joy that reverberates on the ice. It’s great to be this close, to be in his arms, and he can see Victor feels the exact same. They are so undeniably happy.

 

 

“The myth says that once upon a time, people weren’t like today. They all had a companion, but it wasn’t as simple as having a soulmate. Each being was made of two persons: a half could be either woman or man, without limits. Some of us are born to be paired to a woman, but others…”, Victor sighs dramatically and then smiles at Yuri, making his toes curl in embarrassment. It is still too hard to adapt to such beauty and perfection in his daily life, sitting in a room of his family resort.

“These entities were bound with deep love, yet they were too strong and threatening to the gods, which divided them as a punishment for their pride. That’s how we ended up being just ourselves. And that’s why we long for love and if we feel strangely connected to a stranger for no reason whatsoever, that person might be our lost soulmate”.

Yurio has just fallen asleep after his second bowl of _katsudon_ , snoring softly next to him, but Yuri has his eyes set on Victor and blushes when he winks at him to complete his story. He speaks almost just to fill the awkwardness of that moment: “Do you think soulmates exist? Something like... you’re bound to be together, no matter what?”

Victor takes his questions seriously, weighing it for a long while, while he theatrically scratches his chin with his fingers as in deep thought. “Well... don’t you ever feel like there is something incredibly irresistible in some people? Something only you can see, something that hits you at once, you and only you, others can’t understand the depth of that attraction, the way it cuts through your heart, the way it makes you feel giddy and out of place, and everything around you changes at once... and it’s a matter of few minutes, sometimes an instant, a certain person you meet and makes you feel like that. Maybe you just dance together for few minutes, maybe you share a laugh that could be meaningless and yet… why does it feel so important? Was that our soulmate, in the past? When we were still entire”.

Yuri is sure to have his face on fire, pinned down by that definition that feels so close to home, wedged between truths he doesn’t want to speak about. He remembers the TV screen and a sixteen Victor smiling so openly, as if it was just for Yuri; he holds his breath, reliving the emotion he felt that day.

He doesn’t know how to raise his eyes from the interesting spot he’s been looking at on the tatami but he feels Victor’s stare on him so he blurts out a question, once more to make an end to another awkward silence. “D-did you ever feel like that? Struck by lightning, I mean, as you fell in love on the spot...”

Victor chuckles and Yuri instinctively darts his head up to check at his unreadable expression, a Cheshire smirk crossing his face. “Once, yes… I did”. He sighs contently, his cheeks tinting in sudden crimson as he giggles for something distant, far away from Yuri’s reach. The tinge of pain about his heart makes Yuri fear – will he be able to give up on Victor, if Yurio wins? Will he let him go back to his rightful place, to the centre of the world, and leave his side forever?

Dark thoughts clouding his mind, Yuri is glad when Yurio breaks the silence by waking up with a scream. He’s never been this greedy – not so blatantly, at least.

 

 

iii

When they’re finally alone in their room, after dinner with the other skaters, Yuri jumps on his bed without even looking at Victor. There is too much going on in his mind, and though the Grand Prix has his priority – only few hours left – his mind keeps going back to the ring on his finger. Now and then, he touches it with his thumb to be sure it’s not just a figment of his imagination.

“You know what you need, the night before such a big competition?” Victor stops him from checking his hand for the umpteenth time. He turns on his side to see him inching closer, stooping on his bed to catch him in his arms. “You need to relax for good”.

“Any idea?”, Yuri is incredibly sardonic, in spite of being so happy to be squeezed by Victor’s hug. He knows there is not much that even Victor can do for his nerves – being by his side and trusting in him is anything Yuri needs and what he asks Victor to do, nothing more.

“I have one”, he grins suggestively and Yuri understands at once, not because he’s someone that catches up so easily at such allusions, but because Victor couldn’t be more obvious about it.

Victor doesn’t let him complain, Victor doesn’t listen to him _at all_ and Yuri just crumbles under his touch.

 

 

The ring on his finger is hypnotizing, Yuri thinks, gold shining against his pale skin as he moves his hand expertly. He can’t look away, feeling proud and satisfied just by that view – the rest is more than simply overwhelming and Yuri gasps for it as well for the lack of air. He just can’t bring himself to breathe, not when Victor’s hand fumbles with his clothes and settles on the tent of his underwear.

_Victor Nikiforov is going to –_

Yuri lets out a nervous squeal when he outlines his hard-on with his long fingers, and he almost covers his eyes as Victor looks at him seeking his answer. “Yes, of course yes”, he manages to say after the longest moment, feeling entirely bare before him.

Victor beams at him with the happiest quirk of lips and Yuri is now sure of being the luckiest man in the world, yet the only thing he’s able to do is pulling him in a kiss, words lost in front of such beauty. Victor is warm and feels good against his mouth, nibbling at his bottom lip with his teeth, his tongue teasing him before stealing one of his moans, in a fight with no winner.

“Just let me do my magic”, Victor whispers to him, each word precious for Yuri as if he was giving him some life lesson. “You’ll sleep like never before”.

He crawls back to his now hardened clothed erection, his mouth closing around it as he follows the shaft with his tongue, the fabric getting wet under his ministration. Yuri is trapped under him, unable to move as he looks and feels everything he does – the friction of his underwear against his sensible skin, Victor’s teeth slightly digging in his flesh, his tongue lapping at his head – everything is just too much for someone like Yuri.

Victor is unbearably perfect – for him and no one else – and Yuri is overcome once again as his hands pull down his briefs and the ring flashes in gold when his right hand grasps his cock, stroking it few times with studied laziness. He stares at him in complete awe while his fingers pump him hard, and can only groan when Victor’s lips close around his head.

He can’t believe how lucky he is, how incredibly blessed – Victor sucks his cock with his hand squeezing at his base, the ring’s texture cold and foreign to Yuri as much as his fingers – how grateful he is – Victor’s mouth is too warm and tight around him, Yuri is inexistent under him, he’s just what Victor wants him to be, just a stretch of skin and a bundle of overexcite nerves ready for autodestructing themselves. He is all he wants him to be, so extremely close that he’s quite sure he and Victor are now the same person, as it was meant to be a long time ago – and he comes, hard, harder than any other time he has come just by his hand, picturing something not so far away from what happened just now.

Victor milks him without complaint, and Yuri suddenly feels so spent and done that he could doze off any moment. He doesn’t want to, though, not yet. He goes to check Victor’s own erection but finds his pants wet and his hard-on gone. “Did you…”

“Yeah, I came with you”, he giggles quite bashfully.

Yuri wants to laugh with him but feels too happy to even be able to move. He stares at Victor in his eyes, bluer than ever, and he hopes this will be enough to convey all his feelings. Yuri wants to tell him how special he is for him, how important and precious and life-changing Victor can be – he wants to confess about all those emotions that have been making him more and more alive with time, shaping him in someone braver and more confident, someone who can dream without feeling not worthy of that dream.

He wants to tell him of all those tingles crawling on his skin, the sweat, the palpitations of his heart, the warmth of blood on his cheeks, the stuttering, he wants to say of all the things that Victor does to him with his existence, with one of his breathes, one of his smiles – knowing that his eyes are fixed on him, and no one else, on Yuri, on Yuri only.

He wants to thank him for the experience of his life, that is much more than skating despite it started because of that, the passion that unifies them, the passion that Victor gave to Yuri with his performance – he wants and wants so much it hurts, and Yuri has never been this greedy, not so blatantly, never at loud, in order to disappoint no other but himself when he eventually failed. He never said the things he wanted – and now that’s all he can do, saying them to himself, to Victor, to the world – one by one.

So, he starts to speak, clinging to him with a happiness that is almost scary: “Victor... you taught me about love”.

 

 

iv

Victor looks at him sleeping so closely, his arms wrapped around his torso, and feels sated. It’s something new, to be this happy for a happiness that someone else can give him, as well as himself. He’s always been alone before Yuri entered his life and now he never wants to experience that again.

Somehow, he has won this year too.


End file.
